


sit up straight, henry

by thisprentiss



Category: The Pirates of Penzance (1983), The Pirates of Penzance - Sullivan/Gilbert
Genre: Ableism, Autistic Character, Canonical Character Death, Minor Character Death, Origin Story, also, anyway not to be That Person who projects onto characters in unpopular fandoms but, im a garbage man........in a garbage can...., my ass........craving That Representation, the pirate king is autistic thanks and bye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:37:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisprentiss/pseuds/thisprentiss
Summary: backstory for the pirate king, very vague, very short, i'll probably add more to it later going into detail and stuff





	

**Author's Note:**

> pls enjoy friends also come talk to me abt pirates of penzance @ frogyell on tumblr bc im always a slut for this show  
> the pirate king's name is henry bc that was one of the only decent names on the top 1000 list of popular victorian era names

There were a lot of things sons of noblemen had to do.

Sit up straight, Henry. Don't fidget, Henry. Stop pulling at your collar, Henry. Stop talking so loud, Henry, but no, don't be so quiet, people will think you're up to something. You make too much eye contact, Henry. No, no, don't look _away_ from people, why is this so hard to understand? You're ten years old, stop acting like such an imbecile!

Henry's mother was always nicer about it than his father was, or at least she was in the beginning. Eventually, though, the constant public humiliation from her son began to get to her head, and her gentle but stern words when they would get home from parties turned into shouting, often bringing both of them to tears.

It wasn't like he could help his disruptive behavior, though.

He tried to stop, he really did. But it was impossible not to fidget when you've been sitting for hours on end, and all the layers of clothing was so _restricting_ , it was almost like he couldn't breathe. Undershirt, normal shirt, vest, belt, coat - everything was so frilly and tight and itchy that it made Henry want to crawl out of his skin. His mother said he used to cry when he would be forced into formal wear when he was a younger child, kicking and screaming and sobbing.

Which is what he felt like doing now anyway, but he'd learned better than to throw tantrums in front of his parents, especially over something as trivial as clothing.

And how on earth was he supposed to control the volume he spoke at? How was he supposed to figure out how loud was too loud and how quiet was too quiet? And eye contact was ridiculous, there shouldn't be some sort of "regular amount" of looking into someone's eyes. You either look or you don't, how are you supposed to know when to do what?

Samuel was the son of one of Henry's father's friends, some other nobleman.

He was three years older, but was a solid five inches shorter, with a long nose and a pair of wire glasses that sat at the tip. The two became very fast friends once they met, bonding over their love for sailing and sword fighting. And Samuel was an _excellent_ listener, letting Henry talk for solid hours at a time, only interrupting to throw in the occasional joke or an acknowledgement that he was still listening.

Then, when Henry was fifteen, Samuel got a job on a ship as a deck hand, and all of a sudden the two friends were saying goodbye to each other with Samuel all dressed up in a red shipman's uniform. They shook hands and gave nods, and then Samuel was gone.

Things went back to a relatively normal state after that, and Henry got _much_ better at concealing his discomfort from those around him. Eventually, his parents were even under the impression that he'd gotten over his childish impulses.

And then he was woken up early in the morning by one of the handmaidens, who was crying uncontrollably as she stammered out broken words that Henry managed to piece together into _your parents are dead._

He couldn't bring himself to feel anything at that very moment, feeling more like someone had carved out his insides and replaced it all with sand. At the funeral ceremony, though, he broke down and wound up curled around himself on the ground, screaming into the fold of his arm.

Newly orphaned, he was sent to live with his uncle, who lived in a quaint little seaside town called Penzance.

Little did he know, that was going to be the beginning of a  _very_ interesting life journey.


End file.
